


Dream a little dream of me

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Extended Metaphors, Jealousy, Not Happy, Obsession, POV Grantaire (Les Misérables), Platonic Love, Projecting, Romantic love, Sad throughout, This can be interpreted both as, Unrequited Love, and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25346548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Grantaire drinks too much. He's obsessed. He craves Enjolras.
Relationships: Enjolras & Grantaire (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: From lyric prompts





	Dream a little dream of me

Drinking was ironically helping him stay afloat. His heart always felt as if it was sinking like a rock. There were chains attached to his ankles as he dived deeper and deeper into the ocean. Every now and then he would be reminded of the strong lack of oxygen and his intense desire to resurface which would strike his lungs as if his ribs had twisted itself to betray its own body, puncturing them.

The alcohol in his bloodstream helped him breathe under the immense pressure of the unknown territory he was being dragged into. Through the filter of his glass, he was able to see a distorted reality; a reality which didn’t hurt him. There was no Enjolras, no leader who stole his heart and squeezed the fresh blood out of it. None of that weighed him down and he was allowed to ascend.  
Once he began to rise, light shone on his face. When he raised his head, he could see the thin layer of water which stood between the delicious air and the glorious sun and him. And every time he would extend his arm to touch it, his heart turned heavy again and he began to sink.

Down.

Down.

Down he went.

Alas, in the midst of the shadows and the nests of monsters lurking in the mysterious sea, he would return as if it was his home. In fact no creatures bothered him, believing him to be a part of their ordinary lives due to how frequent his drowning was. He was just a monster as any of those creatures were.

What made him so deformed? What started as such small admiration could have bloated up and consumed him whole. Grantaire couldn’t remember the last time he saw anything clearly or when he didn’t feel numb at his fingertips. Enjolras called this a problem and Grantaire knew it too. From being stroked by Enjolras' thoughts and concern, he turned to drinking again. It was important for him not to fall any deeper than he already was. If Enjolras showed affection it would power his downfall. Further and further would he fall up to the point he would be physically choking on his love for the man.

On rare occasions Enjolras would touch him, whether it be his shoulder, his arm, or his hand; and every time he did Grantaire was sure not to linger on his touch. The more and more he fed himself of lies that the beautiful leader cared for him, the faster his descent would be. It was a ritualistic thought he had to present himself every morning and every night, and soon, every hour. Enjolras did not love him. He cared for everyone and Grantaire happened to be under that category. The blond leader would strike a conversation with everyone, maintain eye contact with everyone, smile with everyone. At times his fingers would brush against his friends' or at time Enjolras would nudge his friends jokingly with his shoulder. Without the man knowing, Grantaire would watch as jealousy ignited. All the times he thought he was special burned away. 

In addition their interactions were a uneasy reminder of how distant Grantaire was with his friend- that no matter how much he tried, he could never reach the facility Enjolras had for social interactions as he did. Often he would watch him from afar, beer in his hand, grunting in internal pain. For a long time, he realised, he thought he was the most important person in Enjolras' life, given how he deviated from his normal stiff behaviour with him. Through observation he realised the leader behaved like this with everyone else. Grantaire was the same as anyone around him, if not inferior. The only difference between Les Amis and him was that he had not received any of those aforementioned treatments from anyone else, thereby creating a simple yet deadly illusion that he was unique.

Perhaps being alone in the dark, being spied by supernatural creatures in the sea would have counted as him being unique. He was the only human who had drowned deep enough to encounter those monsters. He surely had spent enough time to be recognised as one of them. It was peculiar. He felt more like a pack with creatures no one had ever seen before than humans.

Having the sense of family when being so deep in darkness was a dangerous thing. Grantaire knew this so he drank. He drank to stay alive. He drank in order to be noticed.

It was more than evident that his friends didn’t understand. Nobody did. They had each other, someone to treat like how Enjolras had treated them. Thus, when they saw him drink, they mocked him, they laughed. By no means did they have malintentions. If there was a culprit it was Grantaire himself as he fuelled their laughter by cracking jokes and insulting back at them in a light manner. But that wasn’t him. It was the alcohol.

There was once a belief that the drinking would only last a couple of days. This was conceived after Grantaire caught himself obsessing over Enjolras’ time schedule when he would enter and leave the Musaine which then grew into an unhealthy disease as he guessed what Enjolras was doing at every hour. Highlighting the insanity of this action, Grantaire tried to tame his obsessive self by drinking. It was supposed to last for a couple of days, thinking he was only splashing around the shallow end.

Human emotions had no logic, however, as he was possessed by his own naivety and started sinking. Believing he would resurface soon, he observed the world underwater. The water was bright and he could see life quite clearly.  
Then he would never breathe again.

Love was a beast and it wrapped around his chest and neck and strangled him. As he descended further into the ocean, unable to see clearly in the dark, he could feel his lung shrinking and his heart shedding. He knew his whole heart wouldn’t be sacrificed- Enjolras wasn’t everything to him but he had a strong grip on it. As to Enjolras, Grantaire knew fully well he didn't mean much. Care was involved in their interactions and conversations but there was too much burden Grantaire carried. It was impossible love such a hideous monster. Therefore he acknowledged his love for him was insignificant and miniscule in Enjolras' eyes. For Grantaire? The love he felt would forever possess the most significance in his life.

This far down he was content with the depth he was in. He was content not because he liked the feeling of suffocation but because he understood his fate. Drinking would only make him afloat, not fully breathe again. From this day on he would struggle to live.  
There was a way of escaping the vicious yearning. All he had to do was cut Enjolras out of his life and leave. It would be painful at first but finally rising back the top would have been so satisfying and empowering. He didn’t need any forced chemical imbalance to make him feel whole; he would have had the power to do it all himself. His lungs would widen as the permanent ache disintegrated. His throat would no longer bruden him as oxygen flows through it. And his gut wouldn’t be stabbing him and instead rejoicing in the lifting of the weighty burden.

As of now, water clutched at his throat and lungs, suffocating him as he descended further into the shadows. His heart was sore. His lungs ached. The pain never went away; it was something he was cursed to live with.

One day, he believed he would breathe again. Perhaps it would take a long, long time... This future could have been at his fingertips but Grantaire watched from a distance. Love defied logic and sense. He knew he was being unreasonable but he bowed down to his inner obsession. Thus, he sank further. He chose Enjolras over living.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember exactly... but I think I cried as I wrote this?? Hopefully it wasn't crap.
> 
> Anywho, thanks for reading :)


End file.
